Hinpoha, who was nearest the window, peeped down. “It’s a whole bunch of girls,” she reported in an excited whisper. “All strangers. I don’t know any of them. What can they want?”
“Want to see us, probably,” said matter-of-fact Sahwah. “Isn’t somebody going down to let them in?”
“The way this place looks!” sighed Nyoda, looking at the floor strewn with the contents of Katherine’s poncho. “Gladys, you and Hinpoha go down and let them in and detain them downstairs until the rest of us can put this room in order. It’s a disgrace to the Winnebagos.”
Gladys and Hinpoha descended the ladder and threw open the door. “Welcome,” they cried, “whoever you are! Welcome to the House of the Open Door!”
The six strange girls came in. One who was tall and thin and had hair almost as red as Hinpoha’s, stepped forward. “We are members of the San-Clu Camp Fire,” she said. “We have heard quite a bit about you Winnebagos and thought we would come and call. Is this your famous Lodge?”
“It certainly is,” said Gladys hospitably. “We are delighted to become acquainted with you. Make yourselves at home. This gymnasium outfit belongs to a club of boys who share our Lodge, and over there is Sandhelo’s stall. Sandhelo is our pet donkey; you must see him right away.” She led the girls to the stall and kept them there telling about Sandhelo’s exploits until she was sure from the sounds above that the room was in order. Then she invited them to ascend the ladder.
“The San-Clu Camp Fire have come visiting,” she announced, as she stepped out on the floor.
“All Hail to the San-Clu Camp Fire from the Winnebagos,” chanted the hostess ceremoniously, and seven pairs of hands performed the fire sign.
“San-Clu returns All Hail,” responded the guests with no less ceremony.
The newcomers were shown the beauties of the Winnebago Lodge, and it seemed they would never get done exclaiming over the rugs and skins and pottery, and most of all, the beds.